


All His (Her) Fault

by afteriwake



Series: Love Is Like [29]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: All Are Safe, Cats, Comfort/Angst, Confrontations, Conversations, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, Folded Notes, Forehead Kisses, Mentioned Eurus Holmes, Mycroft's Fortress, POV Sherlock Holmes, Promises, Scared Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing, Sleeping Molly Hooper, Worried Molly Hooper, Worried Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 21:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: When Sherlock returns to Baker Street to see signs of violence, he believes it to be all his fault even though, in reality, it was all his sister's doing.





	All His (Her) Fault

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MagsyB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagsyB/gifts).



> So I decided I'd kick the end game into gear for this fic and the next two to three so the rest of the series can be nice and fluffy. I hope you enjoy my answer to **marcceh** 's prompt of Sherlolly and " _I deserved worse.'_ "

He returned home to Baker Street, arms laden with groceries and things for the cats, not expecting what he found. Bullet holes in the door, which had been kicked off its hinges. No sign of Mrs. Hudson or Molly, just four frightened (and thankfully alive) cats. His vision went white until he saw the folded note on the kitchen worktop. Fearing the worst, he opened it with shaky hands, but relaxed when he read his brother’s excellent script.

_They’re safe. Molly wants her cats. Come to the fortress._

The littlest ones really shouldn’t travel in such cold weather, but he put a small, thin blanket into the carrier with them and their mother, and Toby in another carrier before putting the tins of cat food and the kitten milk in the pockets of his Belstaff. He was shaking as he signaled for a cab, and warier than he had the care to be usually, and kept an eye on the driver and the other on their surroundings to make sure he went to Mycroft’s home as instructed.

Mycroft was waiting for him on the steps. He must have seen Sherlock enter Baker Street and then gather the cats and get in a cab via the surveillance feed. “How did it happen?” Sherlock growled as he came up the stairs.

“Our sister,” he said quietly. “Your home will be repaired but for the meantime, the three of you are welcome to stay with me until we can sort this out.”

“How do you sort her out, Mycroft?” he asked pointedly. “I know almost nothing about her and yet I know she’s a danger to us all.”

“She wants a present,” he said quietly, looking Sherlock in the eye.

“Me?” he asked, surprised.

Mycroft nodded. “Pay her a visit and she’ll leave the women in your life in peace.”

“Mary...”

“Is fine. After the attack on Baker Street, we sent the Watsons to a different safe house. John is on full alert.” Mycroft reached out to take one of the carriers. “Molly is upstairs. I’ll see to the kittens.”

“Don’t go stealing one of them from us,” Sherlock said, handing him the carrier with Midnight, Smokey and Martha. “I have their supplies.”

“Set them on the foyer table and take Molly’s cat to her.”

“Fine,” Sherlock said. He emptied his pockets onto the foyer table as soon as he got inside, then took the carrier to the guest room he knew Mycroft would give Molly, the one decorated in roses. A sign of life while surrounded by so much death. Death he had brought into their cozy world, or the potential for it, at least. That was how he saw it. It was his sister that did it and it could have been so so much worse.

He set the carrier down and opened the door before bringing it inside. Once the door was shut behind him he let Toby out, and the cat jumped onto the bed next to a sleeping Molly. Sherlock realized he had no idea whether either of the women had been home or if either of them had been hurt…

He sat on the edge of the bed and gently roused Molly awake, though Toby had seemed to be having a headstart on that. Molly stretched and then when she saw Toby she put her arms around him. “Are the others okay?”

“Frightened, but alive. Mycroft has the kittens now. Don’t be surprised if Smokey stays with him after all of this is over. Or Martha. He may not want a goldfish, but I doubt he can resist the cats.” He reached over and smoother her hair back. “Were you at home?”

“No, but Martha was. She took a sedative and was asleep last I heard. I was picked up straight from Barts by Mycroft himself, just before I was to get on the Tube. That’s why I didn’t know about whether the cats were alright.”

“He didn’t think to warn me at all,” Sherlock said darkly. “It was my sister’s doing.”

“She really is dangerous, isn’t she?”

“Her reach extends greatly, it seems.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Get more rest. I need to speak with my brother. My sister wants a visit.”

“She can’t have you,” Molly said, her eyes wide.

“I will take every precaution imaginable,” he said. “I deserved worse for ignoring her all these years, even if I didn’t remember. But you did not deserve any of this. I’ll make sure it stops.”

“You promise you’ll be safe?”

He nodded. “I’ll also try to speak to you before I meet with her, to let you know what we decide to do. You deserve that much, if not more.” He took her hand away from Toby and kissed it gently. “I love you, Molly. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”


End file.
